


What's Mine is Yours

by imnotinclinedtomaturity



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010, Boys In Love, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotinclinedtomaturity/pseuds/imnotinclinedtomaturity
Summary: During spring of 2010, a last minute trip to Phil's naturally turns into last minute packing to go home, and, well. Turns out Dan didn't really bring much. In fact, he's probably going home with more than he brought, thanks to some carefully nicked clothing of Phil's.





	What's Mine is Yours

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to @auroraphilealis for beta'ing and bullshitting titles with me for 10 minutes before we ended up with the same crap we started with.
> 
> also thanks to the two anons who requested prompt 68: “This is mine. So is this. And this. And this. Especially this.” I'm trying to break out of the _expected_ with them, so we'll see how it goes haha

Dan’s train was set to leave in three hours, and of _course_ he’d left packing until right this fucking minute. Last night, he’d been too eager to get Phil into bed to pack… and then he’d been too lazy to get out of bed and pack afterwards… and this morning, well, he’d put his energy to a different use this morning, too.

But now morning was turning into afternoon and his phone was sending him annoying reminders that his train was departing far too soon and he needed to fucking get his _shit_ together.

Frantically, he ran about Phil’s room, sorting through the piles and piles of stuff to find his belongings. He’d only been here a week and they’d already managed to make a bloody mess of the place. They were always messier when Phil’s parents weren’t around to keep an eye on them — clothes inevitably ended up strewn about not only the bedroom, but the hall and the lounge and the kitchen… 

Dan would have to remember to check those parts of the house on his way out.

“Jesus, where’re my damn pants?” Dan mumbled, more to himself than Phil seeing as Phil was currently being utterly useless. 

Relaxing on the bed, Phil was watching as Dan tore the room apart, doing absolutely _nothing_ to help. If Dan wasn’t such a good boyfriend — and he wasn’t at least fifty percent sure that Phil was probably a little sore from last night — he’d badger Phil into helping him. As it was, though, Phil probably _was_ sore and Dan was _definitely_ a good boyfriend (or he was trying his damnedest to be, at least), so Dan just let Phil be.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Dan grumbled under his breath.

Phil’s only response was a soft giggle from the bed. Dan spun around to find Phil smiling at him, his eyes lewdly scanning up and down Dan’s body. “I’d help, but I’m too busy enjoying the view.”

Dan looked down at that, his cheeks immediately flushing when he remembered that he was just wearing pants — _Phil’s_ pants. 

Tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, Dan flashed Phil a coquettish smile. “I’m happy to stop packing if you’d rather do something different,” Dan offered cheekily, half teasing, half serious.

“You’ll definitely miss your train if we do something different,” Phil responded saucily, his eyebrows waggling lasciviously at Dan. 

Packing was _horrible_ — looking at Phil was _much_ better. Dan let his gaze trace Phil’s body, taking in the way Phil’s open shirt framed his chest, the way his pants hung _salaciously_ low on his hips, the way his hair hung around the edges of his face...

Dan swallowed thickly and forced his eyes away from Phil. “Right,” Dan said firmly, letting out a slow breath. He forced himself to refocus on the task at hand. Dan only liked so many clothes that he owned, and he’d definitely regret not having acceptable clothing in, like, five days if he didn’t bring his shit back, so he needed to focus. 

But still, all of Dan’s efforts were likely futile — if for no other reason than he knew he was scheduled to be back here in less than two weeks. Then again, Dan knew he didn’t really bring much. Visiting Phil over Easter had been a rather last minute decision; he hadn’t found out that he had the week off until on Thursday night, when his dad mentioned his law firm — _their_ law firm — wasn’t working the next week at the dinner table.

And asked if Dan was interested in doing some garden work for the neighbor in his free time.

Naturally, Dan had fled from dinner as quickly as possible, haphazardly shoving whatever he could get his hands on into his backpack while simultaneously calling Phil and telling him to play sick and get out of going to his Great Aunt Marge’s for the holiday. Wanting to see Phil as quickly as possible — and _really_ wanting to avoid a lecture from his parents — Dan had gone straight from work to the train station, only armed with the shittily-packed backpack from the night before. 

It wasn’t like it mattered that much; he and Phil were almost the same size, and they didn’t exactly have plans to _go_ anywhere this week. Besides, Dan liked wearing Phil’s clothes just as much as Phil liked seeing Dan in them. 

Clothing, though. That was important. Dan needed decent clothes for the next two weeks. Coming to a halt, Dan took a moment to stare into his backpack, evaluating what he had packed so far.

The most important things were there — his computer, his chargers, his straightener. There were a couple of shirts, too, and a pair of jeans.

Was it possible that was all he brought with him?

There was still a shitton of room in the bag, but it _had_ been rather light when he’d come so… maybe?

Dan tried to think back on the week, attempting to remember what the hell he’d worn.

Not much.

Him and Phil just hadn’t had much alone time recently and, well... they’d capitalized on it this week.

Shifting his gaze up to look at Phil, Dan tilted his head and furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “Is this really all I had?”

Phil sent Dan a flat, unamused look. “Ugh, you’re making me move,” he groaned, pushing off the bed and trudging over to peer into Dan’s backpack. Phil poked around for a second before looking back up at Dan, shrugging his shoulders and cocking his head. “I think you borrowed most of your clothes, so… maybe?”

Phil reached out, his hands landing on Dan’s bare waist and pointedly tugging Dan’s — _Phil’s_ , technically — pants. Dan glanced down, a warm blush spreading across his cheeks as he looked at Phil’s music note pants on his own hips, noticed the way that they were definitely a little looser on him than Phil.

That was new. Until Phil, Dan had only dated girls, and they’d all been smaller than him — smaller by a _longshot_. 

And then Phil came along. 

Phil, with his broad shoulders and sparse chest hair and hips wider than Dan’s and Dan just… Dan just melted a little every time he thought about it, honestly.

They’d been dating for six months, and sometimes the sheer _boyness_ of Phil still got to Dan in ways he never would have imagined.

That was part of why Dan _adored_ wearing Phil’s clothes. They were almost the same size — _almost_ , but not quite. Phil’s shoulders were definitely broader, his chest decidedly more defined, his waist easily thicker. His cock… well, his cock was notably larger too, not that Dan was complaining.

They weren’t massive differences, but all together, they added up to Phil’s clothes being _slightly_ large on Dan; the necklines hung a bit too far past his collarbones, the waistbands fell a bit too low.

And it was glorious.

That glorious, intimate feeling was what prompted Dan to swipe Phil’s purple lightning shirt off the floor. “This is mine,” he declared.

Phil raised an eyebrow, skeptically looking from Dan to the shirt and back. “Okay…” he said slowly, sounding like he didn’t quite know what to make of the claim.

Dan shoved the shirt into his bag as he scanned the room for other clothing he wanted to take from Phil. His gaze caught on a different pair of Phil’s pants, a pair that was a little too tight for Phil and fit Dan much better anyway. Phil didn’t _need_ them. Dan crossed the room in three fast steps, picking up the Super Sonic themed pants and brandishing them in front of his chest. “So is this.”

Phil quirked one eyebrow doubtfully. “I get you wanting my shirt, but really? You want my pants?”

Almost daring Phil to challenge him, Dan raised an eyebrow and drew the Sonic pants in closer to his chest. 

“Fine, you perve,” Phil conceded, though he sounded on the verge of laughter. “Take my pants with you.”

Dan smiled, a smug self-satisfied grin overtaking his face. Before Phil could change his mind, Dan added the bright pants to his bag, quickly scanning the room for his next culprit. 

It didn’t take long for him to find it. 

Laying on Phil’s dresser was another shirt, this one a red one that advertised _Toyko Festival_. Dan was pretty sure he’d never worn it — _yet_ , anyway. He couldn’t deny that that was definitely part of the allure. 

Dan swiped it off the dresser, holding it out in front of him with a testing smirk — if Phil would let him take _this_ shirt, a shirt he’d never even borrowed before, then Dan was fairly confident that he’d have full reign. 

“And this,” he said, trying to keep his voice sounding confident. It was hard; Phil might not realize, but Dan was merely testing the waters.

Phil raised his eyebrow skeptically but didn’t push the argument. “Alright...”

Dan smirked and tucked the shirt into his bag, quickly straightening back up. This time, he didn’t need to scan the room to know what he wanted, he didn’t need to rifle through piles and piles of clothing. He knew. He’d known from the beginning what he wanted to take.

Dan carelessly dropped his backpack onto the floor and closed the gap between him and Phil.

He didn’t have to scan the room to know what else he wanted, and by this point, he was fairly certain that Phil wasn’t too picky about what Dan took.

Dan just hoped Phil would let him take the item he wanted most. 

The shrinking distance between them didn’t escape Phil’s notice; he looked down at Dan, head cocked and lips pursed, and an expectant glint in his eye. 

“Yes, dear?” he prompted when Dan didn’t move to take anything.

Dan’s eyes drifted down from Phil’s.

There was a particular shirt that Dan was after, a black and white flannel that Phil had worn incessantly back in October — something he now knows Phil did because Dan had passingly said that the shirt looked good on Phil (it’s true, it did, but Dan hadn’t expected Phil to wear it constantly as a result).

Reaching out, Dan tugged on the hem of Phil’s open button down. Phil cocked an eyebrow, and Dan responded by yanking on the flannel again. “And this,” he said. There was a defensive note in his voice, a note that anticipated resistance and was already trying to push back.

A resigned smirk settled on Phil’s lips, his head subtly shaking. “If you really want it, it’s yours, Howell,” Phil agreed, his voice bubbling over with so much _fond_ that Dan was certain his heart would explode.

With a bashful smile, Dan’s hand slipped from the hem of the shirt to the bare skin of Phil’s hips. Dan grunted a small noise that he hoped counted as thanks while his fingers trailed up the pale expanse of Phil’s chest until his palms reached Phil’s shoulders. Gently, Dan slid his hands under the collar, over Phil’s shoulders, Phil’s biceps, Phil’s forearms, until suddenly the shirt was free and fell to the floor.

Bending over, Dan picked up the flannel and cradled it into his chest defensively, half worried that Phil would change his mind if he looked at it too long. “ _Especially_ this,” Dan mumbled, his grip still vice-like on the shirt.

“Seriously,” Phil relented, just a hint of amusement lacing his voice. “Whatever you want is yours, babe.”

Dan’s attempt at a threatening, possessive gaze turned soft; the corners of his mouth tipped up into a smile, his eyes crinkled up in happiness.

“Thanks, Philly,” he murmured, never once letting go of the shirt. “I’ll bring it back,” he offered weakly.

Phil laughed, a beaming grin on his face, his tongue poking out of his teeth. “I don’t believe you at all, love, but that’s okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> like and reblog on tumblr 


End file.
